The Show Must Go On
by xWolfyx
Summary: Satine and Christian are dead and gone. Harold decides to re-open the Moulin Rouge but needs a new star and writer. He finds both and a show is quickly written. With one new actor, trouble begins once again at the Moulin Rouge.
1. The Begining of the end

The Moulin Rouge was once the whorehouse of the bohemian revolution. Now it was an empty building were a tragic fairy tale had unfolded. But that was over, Satine and Christian were both dead. The star and the writer were gone, and now Harold Ziddler needed a new Diamond to enchant rich men with her sparkling beauty. He had looked everywhere for his new bitches, and found many pretty ones. None of them could compare to the previous Barbie he had taken care of, Satine.

"Zidwer! Zidwer" A midget with a speech impediment called, his name was Toulouse. The short man was dressed in a handsome black suit covered in brown mud.

"Yes?" Harold asked painfully.

"I have fouwn you a star and a writer! " Toulouse cried with joy. Harold's face lit up, his eyes going gold with the thought of having money once again.

"Show them to me now" He ordered clutching his jeweled cane with sausage-like fingers. His golden mustache was twitching with anticipation while he nervously licked is lips. Toulouse with his short haircut and ebony black rat living on his upper lip, turned around and called out in a foreign language that still sounded quite french.

"Marie! Ikimasho!" Out of the darkness came a twenty or twenty-one year old woman. Harold tried not to gasp as he studied her closer while Toulouse watched with a smirk. She was an Indian goddess with cream-colored skin. Her hair was a dark chocolate that hinted red and gold in the dim lamplight. She body was skinny and curvy, hidden behind a black dress that hugged her body like a teddy bear. She had rings on every finger and gold necklaces piled around her royal neck. A shiver went down Harold's back as she smiled nervously at him, her teeth were well cut pearls

"Good evening Monsieur." She said in shaky french while curtsying. Harold smiled,

"What language does she speak Toulouse?"

"Wapanese"

"Japanese?"

"Twats wat I said" The girl laughed a little to under her breath. She quickly silenced herself and flushed pink when Ziddler glanced at her.

"It's all right duckling, you can be as outgoing as you want, and that's why you're here anyway. " He said with a smile. The mask slipped away from the woman's face and she turned to Toulouse. The exchanged a few words and then Toulouse spoke.

"She can learn good french in about 3 days, she is that smart. She also was wondering if she could have a quick look around the place?" Ziddler nodded and the young woman started glancing around the empty building.

"What's her name?" Harold asked, enchanted by her grace while she hiked over all the rubble.

"Marie" Toulouse said softly, he to hypnotized.

"Then why does she speak the foreign language?"

"She was hired as a slave there when she was young by a rich noble. She then slowly became his whore. When his household came back here, he was killed and Marie ended up walking the streets." Harold nodded; it sounded like many stories women had spun for him. This twisted myth seemed quite true; Harold could faintly see scars on the back of Marie's legs.

"Who is the writer?" Harold asked softly. Toulouse turned and smiled at his long time friend,

"She is the writer Ziddler"

Ziddler's jaw dropped,

"She is the writer Toulouse?" Toulouse nodded and Ziddler almost fainted.

"She is very good in writing, as good or better than she can dance and sing." Ziddler pulled out a kerchief and wiped his glistening brow.

"She writes like a goddess almost as beautiful as she is" The midget said with a smile. The girl came back and she said in almost perfect french.

"It is beautiful!"

Ziddler smiled at the girls suddenly french speaking abilities, and her new outgoingness.

"Toulouse, take this wallet. Take Marie to the finest clothing stores in town and let her buy whatever she wants. We do have a new investor," Harold said with a wink in his eye. Marie smiled and suddenly hugged Harold with enthusiasm.

"Thank you sir!" Harold smiled more and patted her back.

"Your welcome duckling, but get used to it. Being the Sparkling Diamond means you get lots of clothes, money, and jewels." He whispered the last sentence with lots of meaning. Marie pulled away and nodded at her new boss and then hooked arms with Toulouse, who came up to her shoulder. Harold smiled softly as the two skipped playfully away.


	2. Investor Enter Stage Right

She was perfect. Once you got to know her she was a social butterfly and a great actor. Harold knew the story wasn't true, of her being a slave. He also knew that she didn't speak Japanese but could speak French perfectly. What he didn't know was her connection to Toulouse. Harold didn't worry about it, he knew it wouldn't be a problem now. He need to find his new investor, a man named James Amonna would help him. Harold rushed down the block to his home a few blocks away. He flew down the rainy streets until he rain into his majestic red door. He ran in the extravagant house with expensive furniture and decorations. A n attractive maid appeared and stated,

"Sir, Mr. Pierce is here to see you. He is in your office."

Harold took a deep breath and muttered back,

"Thank you" He then put his hand flat on the door and slowly pushed it open.

Muddy light streamed through the windows and landed on the faces of the two men. Harold looked around his office with familiar eyes. The room was square, with windows opening to the inner courtyard of his humble house. There was a plain chair facing a big desk with papers strewn all over it.

"You asked to see me?" asked a deep but pleasant voice. A huge, royal, chair behind the muddied desk spun around to reveal a ravishingly handsome man. He had nicely cut blond hair and deep ocean blue eyes that sent shivers down any passing maid's spine. He was tanned by the sun in the south and had a god's body. He wore a nice black suit with hints of blue in the fabric. Harold nodded and replied,

"Yes. I called you here to tell you that we need to start right away on the restoration of the Moulin Rouge." Ziddler sat down in the plain chair, and watched as James toyed with a fountain pen on Harold's desk. He looked up at the owner through the forest of blond hair in front of his face.

"Have you found us a new writer and Sparkling Diamond?" He questioned with a quizzical look in his beautiful eye. Harold nodded and whispered,

"She is the most beautiful creature in heaven" Harold smiled,

"And what about the writer?" James asked. Then, at the moment, an unconscious Argentinean fell through the roof.


	3. Angry Italians, Beautiful stalkers, and ...

**And here it is, Chapter Three. Thank you Alexis for editing for me! I love you forever! (( in a platonic way)). Thank you for your reviews and I hope more come soon. I forgot to post this in the beginnging sooo...**

**DISCLAIMER:**

**I do not own any part of the story accept for the words and ideas, and three or four characters of my own thought. All the rest are owned by the wonderful movie companies and writers of the Moulin Rouge. **

* * *

I didn't want to do this, but Toulouse said that it would be okay.

God how I had missed my brother!

He said that I must go along with the story if I wanted to stay of the streets. My big brother was too poor to keep me in his care. This new plan allowed us to have a place to stay and make some money.

It seemed all right to me.

I missed my home in Italy. The food, the smell, and the people were all memories that made my heart ache. I was going to learn to deal with it. I was going to put a smile on my face and openness in my heart, for him. We stopped skipping when we were out of Ziddler's sight.

Toulouse turned to me.

"You are the gweatest actow on the planet my dawling!"

Toulouse cried. I smiled, sharing my joy. He hugged my waist and I patted his head softly.

"Lets go get some cwothes shawl wee?" He asked playfully as he dragged me into a taxi.

He spoke of some French street to the driver and the horses started trotting along at a slow snail. I stared out of the window, and watched as the creatures of the underworld snaked over each other's bodies like the whores they slept with each night.

Air escaped my lungs with a rush of warmth as Toulouse started humming under his breath. The carriage came to a quick halt and we fell into the ocean of muddy water.

* * *

Stranger A, a rather tall figure, watched two people from the shadows. He smirked when a stunning attractive woman started cursing at her taxi driver in rapid Italian.

A monster of brown untamable curls fell in front of her face when she shrieked, her small figure shaking with anger.

He laughed, lighting up the small corner of darkness around him with his smile. The goddess turned her head and caught his eye for a moment. A sweet shiver went down his spine as he watched a smile appear on her face.

He nodded at her, and she nodded back, only to turn and yell more Italian at the horrified carriage driver.

_

* * *

_

_Oh no you don't,_ Toulouse thought to himself when he saw his sister and a handsome stranger connect.

He immediately put himself between Marie and the man when he saw him walking over with a smug look on his face. He had shaggy black hair that, when shunned, fell in front of his emerald eyes. His skin was tan by the cold sun and callused. He was built nicely and wore a shabby traveler's cloak that covered a black sleeve-less shirt and black pants. He had a tattoo of a dragon twirling up is right arm.

"We need to go" Toulouse muttered and pulled his Italian sister away from the scared human.

She frowned at him, handed the driver a coin, and followed her brother.

* * *

Feeling a soft tap upon her shoulder, she spun around instantaneously.

"Diablo!" Ziddler cried as he sprung from his chair.

He looked up at the new hole in her ceiling and sighed. He then looked down at the handsome man and sighed.

"James? Can you help me move him?"

James nodded and got up. Together, James moved Diablo with help from Harold.

"Why is he unconscious?" Mr. Amonna asked, running a hand through his white hair.

"He has a sickness called narcolepsy, were he falls asleep randomly" the owner explained, wiping his brow with an already dripping scrap of fabric.

Amonna laughed softly to himself but waved his hand and muttered nothing when Harold looked at him with fake concern.

"We were talking about the new writer?" James questioned, changing the dull subject.

"Oh yes," Harold gulped nervously, "She is the new writer"

"Who?"

"Marie, the new Sparkling Diamond"

"What?"

"Marie is the new writer?"

"Where?"

"…at the Moulin Rouge"

"When?"

"When we get the Moulin Rouge up and running. Talking about that…"

"Why?" Amonna interrupted, completely appalled. "A female _can't_ write! It's a _man's_ job! She will have too much stuff going on, sleeping with all the men and making us money, that she won't be able to write! I refuse to let her write for my company!"

James slammed his fist down on the table, anger in his eyes.


	4. Midgets gone mad

**So here it is, Chapter Four. Me sorry it took so long, I had a ton of shcool work to do. Bu now school is over, and I have time to write! yay! so here it is, Chapter Four**

**

* * *

**

When her eyes connecte with mine I almost melted on the spot. Those emerald orbs were so entrancing he wanted to stare at them forever.

"Yes, what do you want?" My heart almost broke at her harsh words.

" Just to offer a beautiful lady my services" My back bent into a bow as my lips brushed against the top of her sweet smelling hand. I cautiously looked up and smiled when her eyes softened at my touch. With a jolt from a strong force, I was falling over into the same ocean as they just escaped from. I thrashed around for a minute, only to lock eyes with the bastard that pushed me.

"What the fuck was that for?" I yelled, pain in my voice. Struggling to get up, I crashed down once again. Numbness took over my brain as my think head hit the ground.

* * *

"Let the girl write!" Diablo cried as he shot up like a bullet his black hair messily covered his tanned face and curly-Q mustache.

"I have read the child's work before, she writes like a goddess herself," and with that he fell back on the couch with an 'oomph'. Ziddler got a small smirk on his face, which was quickly washed away when the sexist investor slammed his fist on the shaky desk once again.

"_SHE WILL NOT WRITE IF IT IS THE LAST THING THAT I DO" _James screamed. Full of irrational rage, he grabbed his hat from the peg on the wall. His head was shoved in the black masterpiece as his mouth uttered words that would make a baby scream. The formed a quick,

"Good day" as the attached legs stormed out of the small castle Harold called home.

* * *

"Are you alright, sir?" I murmured, bending down to peer at the fallen gentleman. He was so handsome it made my heart run but sleep at the same time. Knees greeted mud as the murky liquid crawled up my many skirts. I pulled his head into my lap and pressed two fingers to his neck. My body sighed with unknown happiness and relief as a pulse beat against my fingertips.

"Gewt away from him!" Toulouse cried, attempting to pull me away from the helpless man.

"No," I yelled, slouching over my patient, throwing my weight in the opposite direction, "He needs our help, because of you he's hurt," I looked down at the twisted grimace on the strangers perfect face.

"He is juss some street twash! You will be the most famous person in all of Paree, you will not want people like him drawging you down." I looked up at my brother, pondering how the small man's heart could be filled with such painful cruelty. The man in my arms started shifting back and forth, his eyes lighting up when he looked into my own beaming pupils. We heard something click, and I was face to face with my brothers silver pistol.

"Let go of the rat"

* * *

My red mustache that had tickled so many young females was twirled under my fingers.

"Diablo! You ruin everything!" I yelled, pushing important papers off my desk. White snowflakes fell all over the nicely cleaned carpet from Indian.

"It's not my fault he has issues with zee women." The narcoleptic man stood up and rubbed his head. "If you need me I will be drinking my soul away." He felt his way to the door and proceded to fall down the stairs. Ziddler sighed a fell back into his chair. They needed a different writer, no matter how wonderful the girl's ideas may be. The boy must be handsome, charming, and a good actor. _What if we get rid of the argentinian, and make the new writer act also. We won't have to pay two very high salaries. Diablo ruins everything we'll just make him sleep forever. _I thought with a secretive smile, reaching down to the phone on my desk. The dial spun around while I made my call,

"Zeta darling, send your brother too the Moulin Rouge tomorrow. I have a job for him"


End file.
